Rosebloom
by UnluckyAmulet
Summary: Presea visits the Ozette ruins and realises that even with destruction, something beautiful can come from it.


Disclaimer:I do not own Tales of Symphonia.

This was originally part of my drabble series, but since I'm considering deleting that fic, I thought I would move any drabbles I thought would work as stand-alone fics. The sort-of pairing is Lloyd x Presea, although it can be interpreted as platonic or romantic, depending. Some fluff and light angst, a rare combo. XD

Enjoy!

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><p>It was worse then she thought it would be. Much worse.<p>

"Presea?"

A gloved hand lands gently on her shoulder. Presea barely registers it.

"Are you okay?" Lloyd asks her, as Presea drinks in the ruins of her old village.

Presea nods, then swallows and shakes her head, pigtails swinging. She already has the beginnings of a headache and somehow, moving her head makes it feel like it's making the headache grow. She exhales slowly, goosebumps appearing on her arms.

"It's horrible," Presea says, instead of answering the question.

But it is horrible. She hates it. Suddenly, she feels very glad that Lloyd is with her. She had originally wanted to come by herself, but her nerve failed her at the last second and she asked Lloyd in private. It surprised her a little. Her nerve had never failed her before.

Seeing Ozette like this, seeing it all blackened and ruined like this, feels very odd. Presea is sad about it, but at the same time, she can't really remember the village any other way. They said that the discrimination against half-elves in Ozette was particularly harsh, not that Presea could really feel empathy at that time, but the villagers had turned against her as well. She was alone, in a house draped in the stench of death. It felt as though all the spite and anger in the village had now become physical, like the blackened shells of the houses were always like that. Always cold and empty.

Lloyd, Presea thought, probably was the only one who could really understand it. Iselia couldn't have been that much different from Ozette, although most people there did not die. But Presea can imagine what being exiled must have felt like, even if her own exile is a blurred, unofficial memory.

"Hey, Presea! Come look at this!"

Lloyd's voice startles her, but she relaxes once she realises it's him. Presea walks over to where Lloyd is crouched, by a patch of soil near where the inn used to be. His glove is lightly coated with soil, and Presea sees that he has pushed some of it aside.

"Look, down here," Lloyd urges in an excited whisper.

Obediently, Presea slowly sinks down onto her haunches, looking. Where Lloyd has moved the earth, she can see a plant growing. The leaves and stem are green, an almost painfully vibrant green compared to the drab surroundings. The plant is creeping up alongside the blackened inn, clinging steadily to the charred outer structure. Slowly, though not quite, roses are beginning to bloom. They're beginning to creep out of their buds, reds, yellows, and pinks and even a couple of white ones.

"The ash from the fires must have worked its way into the ground," comments Lloyd, beginning to look around at other plants that are steadily beginning to reclaim the land, "I bet in a few months or even weeks time, this whole place will be covered in flowers."

Presea says nothing, but imagines. She imagines this quiet little ex-village filling up with colour, the scent of various plants thick in the air, the peaceful silence of nature. And when there are plants, animals will surely come too. In the background, Lloyd is still talking,

"-Probably won't even look like there ever was a fi -Presea? What's wrong?"

Presea's hands and knees are muddy. Without really thinking about it, she had sunk down into the earth, moving the roses slightly, pushing certain leaves through gaps in the wood to help it cling faster, propping the buds up so they can absorb more sunlight.

Smiling, she turns to Lloyd, a great feeling of satisfaction resting in her stomach.

"Can we come back sometimes?" she asks.

Lloyd looks at her, seeing her smile, a small smear of dirt across one of her cheeks, her eyes no longer containing their glassy look. And he smiles too.

"Of course."


End file.
